


Of Marriages and Mind Melds

by Fantasyenabler



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Eventual Foursome, Female Character of Color, Het, Multi, Slash, This may never be completed, don't hate me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-11
Updated: 2013-10-11
Packaged: 2017-12-29 03:39:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fantasyenabler/pseuds/Fantasyenabler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mind meld gone wrong leads to an unusual bonding situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Marriages and Mind Melds

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a sequel to “A Quartet of Oddly Colored Flowers,” although it does explore and explain some situations and events I mentioned in that story. It is also not likely to ever be finished, since it has been a WIP for almost four years now, but I reserve the right to come back and finish someday.

Nyota sighed as she pulled the bathrobe tighter and sank deeper into the corner of the couch in the living area of her and Spock’s quarters. She had her personal PADD waiting on her lap and a mug of hot chocolate sitting on the end table beside her. She had her daily reports completed and already saved into the ship’s records. And she had about two hours before Spock finished running some data in one of the science labs.

Plenty of time, she thought, picking up the pad and extracting its stylus. She should be able to get at least one letter completed easily. 

But before she got started, first things first… _Note to self,_ she wrote. _Before you go to bed, comm Jim to see if he’s planning on sleeping in our quarters or their quarters tonight. May have to remind him that the couch in his ready room isn’t that good for sleeping._ She tapped the stylus against her bottom lip before adding with a grin, _May also have to remind him of two additional facts: that his husband won’t be happy if he comes off gamma shift and can’t find him in either bed, and that in this particular instance, Spock and I won’t be willing to help Jim placate him. At all._

She smirked as she added that last little fragment and then saved the note into an automated to-do that would ping at her in a few hours. As the little window closed itself, she dropped the stylus into her lap, so that she could reach over and take a sip of her hot chocolate, before staring back down at the PADD. 

The bare screen blinked at her, beckoned her, and she frowned at it in concentration for a few long seconds. Then she set the mug firmly on the table, twirled the stylus over and around her knuckles, and placed the tip of it upon the screen’s surface.

One deep breath later, she began to write.

_Dear Gaila,_

_I hope you don’t mind, but as always, I feel the need to begin with a bit of disclaimer. You’re dead. I know you’re dead. You got on the Farragut, and the Farragut was lost with no survivors. I don’t expect any communications from beyond the grave, and I don’t think you’re receiving this somehow. These letters are for me, and only me. These letters are because I miss you._

She let the stylus pause as she always did at this point. It felt appropriate, she thought.

_Now, where did we stop last time? I’ve already told you all about marrying Spock a little over a year ago on New Vulcan, and I can imagine what you would have written me in the meantime. How you would have loved to have been here and taken me on one last “Girls’ Night Out.” I’m sure it would have been the party to end all parties. I’m also sure that at some point during the evening you would have prodded me into doing something totally silly and embarrassing._

She grinned as she paused to take another sip from her mug. Gaila had a way of relaxing the people around her that was unlike anyone she had ever met, and she had amazed everyone in their year group with what she could talk people into doing. Even now, nearly three years later, Nyota couldn’t believe some of the things they had done.

Some of the things _she_ had done…

She was still grinning as she swallowed, the memories bright in her mind as she put down her drink and took up the stylus again.

_But that’s not what you would want to talk about now, I’d assume. No, you’d be wanting to hear about the last five months, how they’ve changed everything, and how I came to be involved with three men instead of just the one._

_You would be wanting to ask, “So, how does it all work?”_

_Not easily, I can tell you that, my brilliant, little engineer. There’s so much that’s complicated now, from dealing with one Vulcan bonding with three humans, to working out our odd schedules, to figuring out what this means for what we all want out of life._

_And of course, there’s the sex. Knowing you, you want to hear all about the sex._

_Well, I’m going to make you wait, impatient one. I’ve always thought it best to start at the beginning of any story, and there’s no sex in the beginning._

_There is a lot of pain though._

_There is a hideous amount of pain._

******************************************************************** 

Soft grass brushed gently against the skin of her knees, but for all she cared, it might as well have been sandpaper. Cool breezes tugged at her hair and warm sunlight fell upon her body, but again, they might as well be tongues of flame and barbs of snow. None of it mattered to her now. None of it mattered at all.

Paradise. Telos IV was supposed to be paradise.

For Nyota, paradise had rapidly morphed into hell. 

A hell of mental horror, shared suffering, and now, endless, silent screaming.

 _Can not get out,_ she heard, words that washed into her mind upon a fresh wave of formless agony. _Can not see. Can not find you._

_I’m here, Spock,_ she called. _Spock, I am here._

 _Can not see you,_ she heard back. _I can not see you. Lost. Lost. I am lost._

Somewhere beyond the pain, she heard Jim’s voice. “Okay, he got you the fucking information. Now give me back my pilot and my navigator. Before I show you how much my ship’s weapons care about your civilization and your stupid political in-fighting.”

Grass rustled beside her, telling her someone had just sat down. “Speaking of stupid…” Bones started to say.

Another rustle, and Nyota could feel the presence of a body settling on her opposite side before Jim said, “This wasn’t my idea, Bones. I was planning a rescue mission. I didn’t even know that Spock had beamed down until Nyota walked into my ready room and practically collapsed on the carpet.”

“And now they’re both collapsing here. Wonderful.” More muffled noises, like small objects hitting the ground. “I don’t know why I’m bothering to unpack this. I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing. It’s not like my xenobiology professor told us anything about this, this …what do you call this idiotic procedure again?”

Jim sighed. “Mind melds,” he said. “Like what Old Spock did to me.”

“Don’t remind me.” The rustling was joined by a low hum. “Especially since it looks like we’re going to have to call that green-blooded bastard, and not so he can finally be arrested for committing that particular act of assault.” Nyota didn’t have to have her eyes open to see the way the two newlyweds were probably frowning at each other. Their difference of opinion regarding the ambassador wasn’t exactly a secret. “I need someone who understands how this ‘meld’ works. Because these readings don’t make a damn bit of sense to me.”

Nyota felt her head begin to nod—the part of her that was able to listen approved of calling the ambassador—but through the mating bond she shared with Spock, a different reaction spilled over into her waiting mind. _No,_ she heard. _There is no time, no time. I can not hold on for that long. I can not keep myself from being drawn further into Kayan’s disturbing psyche…_

The sudden pause in the mental waves nearly made Nyota’s heart stop. 

_Nyota, I need you to let go of me and to withdraw your presence until it is behind your mental barriers. I am going to attempt to break our link._

_No!_ she screamed, screamed out loud, loud enough that she thought they could hear her in the physical world. _No, you can’t. You can’t. You can’t give up like this._

_Nyota…T'hy'la…_

“No!” And this time, she knew the loudness wasn’t just in her mind. “No! Spock, don’t do this! Please, please, don’t do this! Don’t go! Don’t go!”

She was vaguely aware of movement around her, of voices asking her questions, but she ignored them. Instead, she swallowed the tears she felt running down her face, and dove back inside herself.

Refocused herself.

Refocused until she planted her “mental feet” firmly where they stood and refused to be moved, not by Spock, not by anyone else. _I won’t let you go,_ she thought, grabbing at the edge of his presence with invisible fingers. _Say what you will, try what you might, I won’t let you go. I won’t let you go!_

_You have to…_

_No!_ In the outside world, hands shook her, but she ignored them. _I am your mate. You are not going anywhere without me. You are never going anywhere without me._

Sadness. The next wave could only be called “sadness.” _Yes. I am._

And with those words, sadness flowed. Sadness built. Sadness crested.

Sadness drowned her until she could no longer hold on anymore.

 _No,_ she screamed. _Noooooo…._

Her eyes flew open. “Spock!” she called, as her body fell over in the physical world, stopped short of hitting the grass only by the golden-sleeved arms wrapped around her. “Spock! Spock, come back!”

No answer. No answer.

She let herself collapse against the chest supporting her. 

"Lieutenant." Nyota tilted her head towards the voice at her ear, a voice that sounded hoarse as if it had been yelling for quite a while. "Lieutenant, report. Tell me what's happening here. We can't help if we don't understand."

 _No one can help,_ she thought, as she shifted in what she realized were her captain's arms. _No one can help at all._

Off to the side, she heard movement, as someone nervously cleared their throat, then stepped close enough that she could see them. “Captain,” Chekhov said, “perhaps if we try talking to the Telosians again, they can assist us." 

Jim's fingers tightened on her skin, and Nyota didn't have to see his face to know that he was frowning. "Yeah," he said, "they've been really forthcoming with the information thus far." 

"That's because all of your conversations with them have involved loud voices, Captain." Chekhov raised his hands and spread them before him as if he was trying to ward off a protest. "They were good to us when they were our captors, Captain, acted almost as if they were embarrassed to have taken us prisoner. I think they would rather not have done any of this. I think it was only the desperation that drove them to it at all.”

A loud “humph” from another goldshirted person standing over by the edge of the meadow caused Chekhov to turn. Nyota tried to get her eyes to focus as Sulu said, “I don’t think they were _that_ nice, Pavel. More like they were a bunch of cowardly weasels who didn’t have the guts to actually hurt anyone. That’s why they didn’t harm us. It was a lack of will, not any kind of real concern on their parts.” 

Chekhov shook his head. “I disagree, Hikaru. You saw how they carried that catatonic madman away from here. Like they were so scared of him they could barely stand to touch him, like his insanity was a disease that they could catch.” He tapped his fingers against his bottom lip. “They were wearing gloves, pa`miluy `gospadi.”

Nyota closed her eyes, not wanting to hear any more of what they had to say. The conversation felt unreal to her in her dazed state, and only the part of her mind that automatically translated everything paid them any attention at all. _They were wearing gloves, for goodness’ sake,_ it said to her. _For goodness’ sake, they were wearing gloves._

_They were wearing gloves…_

“They were wearing gloves.” She sat up and pulled out of Jim’s grasp, his arms falling away from her as she moved. “Spock!” she said, blinking her eyes to clear her vision. “Where is Spock? He was just over there a few minutes ago.”

Jim touched the back of her upper arm. “He still is, Nyota,” he said, as he turned her towards the center of the meadow. There she could see two blue-shirted men, one lying still on the grass, the other crouched over him with a tricorder in his hand. 

_Gloves,_ she thought again. _Vulcans are touch telepaths. If I can just touch Spock..._ She stumbled to her feet, hating that her legs were too shaky for a run, and immediately started walking. "I've got to get to him," she said more to herself than anyone else. "How did he get so far away?"

"You were the one who moved,” Jim said, his steps following her, his voice right behind her shoulder. “I don’t know what was happening to you in there, but your body was mimicking it, throwing you all over the place. I finally had to grab you because we were scared you were going to hurt yourself.”

She waved off his explanation, barely listening to it as she drew closer to the other two men. _If I can just force Spock to let me back in...If I can just get him to let me help him._ "Doctor," she called. "How is he?"

Bones looked up, Nyota close enough now to see the scowl of irritation on his face. “I wish I knew,” he said, as he stared at the tricorder one last time. “I was trying to see if I could get any use out of these damn readings, but I'm not getting anywhere here.” 

No, she could see that he wasn't, even from the distance she was standing at. Spock's body was unresponsive, and his skin held an odd tinge to it, more like the Telosian's bluish cast than his own natural greenish one. 

Bluish, she thought. Like he'd somehow absorbed the color along with Kayan's thoughts...now that was something she hadn't expected. Spock had told her once that personality traits could be absorbed in a mind meld, but not physiological ones. Why would his color have changed that way?

How could that have happened? 

She was still a good distance away when Bones frowned and set the tricorder down at his side. “This thing’s not doing me a bit of good,” he said, staring at it as if it had offended him. “I think I might be better off doing this the old-fashioned way.” 

Nyota suddenly found the energy to run. Color, gloves, disease...she could almost hear the click in her mind as the pieces all came together. “No!” she screamed. “No! Don’t do that!”

Behind her, she heard Jim curse, and she knew he was seeing the same puzzle picture she was. “Oh, fuck,” he breathed, as he rushed up alongside her. "Bones, don't!"

But they were both too late. It only took a heartbeat for Bones lean forward and place two fingers alongside Spock’s neck, a heartbeat for him to stiffen up, and another for him to fall unconscious across Spock’s body.

Just like Spock had been lying across Kayan when she and the others had first arrived, she realized, right before the Telosians had separated the two of them. As she had stumbled across the meadow then, Spock had reached out and "told" her not to come any closer, despite the fact that the mating bond weakened over distance. She had assumed at the time that it was because he was worried Kayan’s madness might infect him enough to make him try to hurt her.

Now, she knew better. Now, she knew why the Telosians felt it necessary to blackmail a outside telepath to work on that monster. They had known exactly how dangerous he was and they had decided they wanted no part of it.

Hikaru was right. They _were_ cowards. And if she got the chance, she was going to wring every last one of their weaselly little necks.

That is, if Jim didn’t beat her to it.

From the look on his face as they reached their two unconscious husbands, that was a very real possibility.

“What the hell?” he asked in the quiet, deadly voice that Nyota had only heard him use a few times before. “There’s more to this than just Spock losing control of a mind meld, isn’t there?”

Nyota grimaced as she circled the two prone bodies, her eyes focused more on scanning the area around where they lay than her own faltering steps. "Yes, I'm afraid there is," she said, stopping so that she stood on a line with Spock's shoulders. "I don't really understand it, but somehow the psychic spiral that Telosian created is contagious, even to non-telepaths. That's why his people didn't dare go after the names and figures he'd memorized themselves. They knew that anyone who tried was taking a real risk of not ever being able to center themselves again." 

"Of course, they did." Jim walked up so that he stood opposite from Nyota, his body planted in the space between Bones' slumped-over torso and Spock's head. Taking a deep breath, he looked at the two of them in turn before rubbing a hand across his face. "Remind me to tell your husband that if he ever does something like this without my say-so again, I'm going to invent a way to actually put someone under a starship's brig instead of in it. And I don't care if I have to ask Scotty and Chekhov to help me. I will find the means to do it." The expression on his face said that yes, he was well aware of the hypocrisy in that statement, given his own reckless track record, but that at the moment, he didn't care. "Now," he said, dropping his hands, "why don't you tell me what you think we can do about this? And don't tell me that you don't have anything. Because you definitely walked over here like you were a woman with a plan." 

He locked eyes with her for a second, the bright-blue color of them stabbing her in a way it never had before, and she found that she had to look away. When she did, her gaze fell upon Spock's face, and the bluish tinge that had creeped slightly up his cheeks.

Only slightly though. Kayan, she remembered, had been blue all over, so much so that she'd mistakenly thought he was a different race from the Telosians she'd seen so far, a race with its own unique coloring.

It turned out that he was indeed unique, just not in the way she had thought.

Was that what Spock would look like once he totally gave into the infection? 

Was it a good sign that it hadn't taken him over completely yet?

Was it?

"Lieutenant, I asked you a question."

"Yes, sir." She took one last look at Spock before lifting her head and meeting Jim's eyes again. "It's not much of a plan, sir. Basically, it all hinges on Spock, on how much faith we have in him, and on how much we think he can straighten this out if he's given a little help." She sighed as she shook her head slightly. _Faith, hope, and love,_ she thought, still shaking her head. _Faith, hope, and love._ "I wish I could give you something more, Captain, but essentially, that's all it boils down to."

Jim squinted at her speculatively. "You're going to go back in there," he said without a single bit of doubt in his voice. "You're going to jump right into that spiral and see if you can't push him into getting you all back out again."

Nyota couldn't help the grin that crept onto her face, the craziness of it all hitting her..."Yes, sir," she said. "Like I said, it's not much of a plan, but the way I see it, it's the only one we've got." She rubbed her hands together nervously, before sinking down onto the grass. "It's also the only one we really have time for. From what Spock told me, this madness moves quickly."

Jim nodded his head, frowning. "Right," he said, hands on his hips. "Because the universe would probably stop turning if we ever had time to actually call in the cavalry." He took a second to scan the horizon, stopping only when he laid eyes upon Chekhov and Sulu. "Gentlemen," he called, "we're about to do something profoundly stupid. So, I'd appreciate it if the two of you could let Scotty know, and maybe also have him send down a security detail, just in case the Telosians try something again."

"Yes, sir," one of them yelled back, giving Jim a thumbs-up gesture at the same time. Sulu, Nyota thought. That had to be Sulu. "We'll take care of it right now, sir."

Jim waved a "thank you" back, then dropped onto the grass so that he was turned to face the back of Bones' head. He stared at his husband for a long moment before quietly asking, "So, if I want our minds to be in the same place, all I have to do is touch him?"

Nyota bit her lip as she pondered how to answer. _Jim,_ she wanted to say, _you do realize that I have no idea what I'm doing here, right? That being bonded to a Vulcan doesn't make me a telepath? That I could be on the brink of getting all of us killed?_

But then she remembered who she was talking to and knew it wouldn't make any difference. These were the men they loved; nothing else was going to matter. "Yes, Jim," she said. "Just touch him. After that, the spiral should do the rest." _At least, I hope it will,_ she chose not to say. 

From the quirk of Jim's mouth, she thought he heard that last part all the same. "Okay," he said, lifting his hand so that it was poised just above the back of Bones' neck. "How about we do this on the count of three, then?"

She took a breath and nodded. "That sounds good," she said, her own hand resting millimeters away from where Spock's fingers splayed upon the grass. "One..."

Jim threw her a grin. "Two..."

She threw it right back at him. "Three," she said.

And then they were both in. Then they were both falling.

Right into the waves. The waves that had grown even more chaotic since Nyota had last been in here.

 _Jim!_ she called, not wanting to lose him right off the bat. _Jim!_ she repeated, searching through the spreading waves. _Jim! Where are you? I can't see you anywhere!_

Desperately, she searched some more, and as she did, she realized that she didn't know what she was actually looking for when seeking him in this place. Since she and Spock had bonded, she had always viewed herself as if this was just an extension of her physical form--head, hands, feet--all of it just transplanted to a new location. Spock, on the other hand, came across to her as someone who had to be felt, not seen, sensed, not touched.

Spock was also completely known to her. From the moment she'd first called his name in here and he'd immediately answered her, she'd known all that he was.

Would the others be the same?

How would she react if they were?

Pushing the thoughts aside, she tried again. _Jim!_ she called, and then, feeling odd at using a nickname, but realizing that Jim had long ago seen to it that no one who knew them both could think of the doctor as "Leonard," _Bones! Can either of you hear me? Can either of you answer me?_

A sense of motion to her left caused her mental self to “turn.” _This is too weird,_ Jim said, struggling through the waves while staring at his “hands.” Nyota grinned at how he looked to her, still very much the young starship captain she saw every day, and not the formless, boundary-less being Spock could often be. _Any ideas on how we’re going to find the others?”_ he asked. _Because I’ve got to tell you that I’m totally lost in here._

Nyota shook her head, the grin sliding away. _I’m not used to the mental landscape being spread out like this. Whenever we interact, it’s generally a matter of one of us ‘knocking,’ and the other one just being ‘there.’_ She moved back to a more shallow part of the “water,” Jim following quickly behind her. _I’ve never been forced to be this active before. The only real control I’ve ever needed to exert is putting up and taking down my barriers._

A sudden gush caused her to have to watch her step. She frowned as she looked down, while Jim paused beside her. _Barriers?_ he asked, one hand extended towards her as if asking if she needed help.

 _Yes, barriers._ She waved his offer away and started walking again. _We have to have some privacy between the two of us. Being bonded didn’t turn us into one mind in two bodies, you know._

Jim nodded as they stopped in an area just beyond the “waves.” _I wondered how that worked between you two. I figured that you couldn’t always be inside each other’s heads…_

 _No. I think that would drive us both insane,_ she said, her mouth quirking at the very thought. _We are aware of each other on a constant basis, but beyond that, we both tend to control how much we let each other know about what we are feeling, and we have to actually ‘talk’ to know what the other one is thinking._ She shrugged. _It’s like any committed relationship, I suppose. The only real difference is that we have a means of communicating with each other that most other couples don’t._

Jim nodded again, his eyes focused on the “horizon” beyond the waves as if he were looking for something. _You can’t communicate with him now though, can you? All of this…_ He gestured around them with his hand. _The spiral’s hiding him, isn’t it? Putting all of this between you so it can be sure you won’t just waltz in here and save him?_

She followed the path his fingers drew in the air and grimaced, momentarily wondering which one of these waves still had “sadness” written across it. _Yes and no,_ she said, biting her lip. _This is keeping me away from Spock, but it’s not the spiral’s doing._ She spread her arms to take in the area around them. _This is actually an extension of Spock’s psyche, believe it or not. Before, he was using the waves as a form of long-distance communication._

She dropped her arms down by her sides. _Now, he’s using them to keep everyone away from where’s he entwined with the spiral, to try to keep everyone else safe._

She watched as Jim took that information in. _Okay,_ he said, his posture stiffening a bit, his mouth drawing into a grim line. _I guess I can understand that. I can’t say he’s been all that successful._ One of his hands formed a fist, and he thumped it a few times against his thigh. _But I can understand it._

He paused and scanned the horizon one more time, searching the still-empty waves. 

Then he turned and faced Nyota, a forced half-smile upon his lips. _I suppose I should have guessed that someone who grew up on a desert planet would consider water to be the ultimate, impenetrable obstacle._ He pivoted in the direction of the waves, eyeing them like they were opponents spoiling for a fight, before smiling back at her again. 

_Ready to go swimming, Nyota?_ he asked.

She smiled back at him, half-heartedly at first, but gaining in strength the more they stared at each other. _I think the question is, Jim, are you ready to keep up?_

The half-smile morphed into a ghost of a smirk. _Just try me,_ he said.

She let her own smirk, and her forward rush into the deeper waters, be her answer.

A splash later, and she didn't have to look to know that he was right there by her side.

The first few waves felt fairly easy. Nyota fluidly stroked and kicked, each action working to push and pull her body through the oncoming water, to shove herself forward into the cold and wet as she and Jim sought to reach the distant horizon.

The next few waves felt the much the same as the first. Neither her arms nor her legs gave signs of tiring. Nyota breathed a sigh of relief and hoped that meant she’d be able to cover more distance without stopping than she had initially planned.

The next few waves once again felt like the first.

As did the next.

And the next.

And the next.

And the next.

Nyota frowned as she stared out at the horizon. Nothing was changing, it seemed. Each fresh moment brought the same series of events: kick, stroke, kick, stroke, kick stroke. With no obvious signs of muscle fatigue or exhaustion arising from what should have been an even exchange.

At any other time, Nyota would have told herself that she should be grateful for this odd bit of luck.

Unfortunately, it appeared to come with a price. Despite all of the work they’d done, their goal wasn’t drawing any closer. 

Despite all of their effort, their relative position hadn’t changed.

Nyota stopped, blinking as the surging waves sprayed water onto her face. She hadn’t thought this was possible, that Spock would have enough control to keep them from making any progress at all. She had assumed the waves were an automatic defense, one he’d been forced to set into motion before the battle with the spiral had pulled him away.

Was she wrong? Did he really still have enough control to stop them cold like this? More than that, did he really have the strength, given everything he was dealing with right now?

Did he really want to keep everyone away so badly?

Did he really want to keep her away?

She floated in the surge for a few moments, allowing her body to fall limp, and her chin to dip a bit into the water. 

Then, without opening her “mouth,” she called, _Spock! Spock, where are you?_ She sniffed as fat droplets leaked down out of her hair and into her eyes. _Please, please help me find you,_ she called. _Please! We need you to help us find you._

A fresh wave pushed at her and she slapped her hand down into it, again and again and again. _Spock!_ she screamed. _Listen to me, you have to help us._ She slapped the water once more. _You have to help us! Help us by not trying so hard to keep on fighting all alone!_

A shift of water beside her told her she wasn’t the only one who had stopped. _Nyota_...Jim began.

 _I don’t know why Spock won’t answer me,_ she said, without turning to look away from the horizon. _I know he has to hear me. I know he has to realize that I’ve jumped back in, and I know he has to comprehend that I_... She allowed herself to glance at Jim for just a moment. _That none of us are leaving this place. At least not until he gives in and lets us all get near._

 _Does he? Are you sure?_ Jim gently reached out and turned her so that she was facing him. _Look, as people go, you know I think Spock’s one of the best. He’s a good friend, a good officer, and one of the few chess players in the known universe who can actually beat me._ He paused to wipe water off of his face, smirking at her half-heartedly as he did. _But I think you might be giving him too much credit here. I think he has too much going on in this place to be aware of everything that’s happening. I think he might just be lashing out without even realizing what he’s doing or who he’s doing it to._

She shook her head, her fingers absently brushing at the water running into her eyes. _Then I don’t know what we’re going to do. If we can’t reach him, if he can’t hear me…_ She frowned out towards the horizon. _I’m not strong enough to force him to hear me. I’m sure an actual telepath could do that, but I have no idea how to even begin._

The smirk faded away as he sighed. _Yeah, I don’t know either._ He narrowed his eyes and she knew without asking who he was scanning the water for, the person he was hoping to make magically appear. _We can’t give up though,_ he said, dropping his gaze and rubbing at his neck. _Between the two of us…there has to be something we can do._

She allowed herself a deep breath as she pondered their options. _There ought to be,_ she said, _but I don't know what it is. We just don’t have enough mental power._ She took in another breath and then slowly let it out. _Perhaps we should have waited for a Vulcan to help us. We can’t do this without one._

Beside her, Jim splashed a hand impatiently down into the churning water. _So what would a Vulcan do if they were here? Institute another mind meld?_ He pushed at a small incoming wave. _No offense, but I don’t see Spock letting anyone else’s mind get near him right now._

 _No, I think he’d only let one of us,_ she agreed, thinking that it was just too bad that neither one of them had the mental ability to reach him... 

Neither one of them...

Neither one...

Neither one.

She tapped a wet finger against her bottom lip.

Then she turned towards Jim and wondered how she could even begin to explain what she was thinking without his asking if she was crazy.

The sound of gushing waves drowned out Nyota’s explanation in her own mind. Even as she spoke, she could only concentrate on Jim’s face, on his eyes, on whether or not the curve of his mouth was a quirk that stated quite plainly, “Congratulations. You’ve turned out to be more insane than even I have ever thought about being.”

It was not what he said when his mouth actually opened, of course. Instead, it was, _Are you sure you can do this? Are you sure you can make this work?_

The intensity in his expression made her shudder a little. _In here, yes. I couldn't do this out in the physical world, obviously. I'd need actual telepathic ability for that. But in here..._ She brushed her fingers through the wet drops trailing down Jim's throat. _We're not really physically here, you realize. These are just representations of ourselves, extensions of our minds moving through this landscape in forms that we are accustomed to seeing ourselves wearing. We're not truly flesh, or bone, or skin in here._ She traced the lines of his shoulder, poking his "not-flesh," as she made each of her points. _That means that all we need to do to allow our energies to merge a bit is to realize that it's more mental barriers than anything that's keeping us apart. And I know how to lower mental barriers without causing too much damage. Spock was able to teach me how to do that much myself._

He nodded as he reached out to grasp both of her hands, his long fingers entwining with hers. _What do you need me to do?_ he asked.

She took a deep breath, centering herself. _First, I want you to picture a door and think of it as being what's going to keep me from walking all the way into your mind. Put everything behind it. The only memories that should be outside of it are the ones you plan to let me have access to._

 _Okay._ His eyes grew distant, and Nyota knew that he'd turned his attention mostly inward. _What now?_ he asked, as a fresh wave pushed them slightly closer.

Nyota shifted her body, trying her best to ride out the newest swell of water. _Now,_ she said, _if you and I are going to work together to find our respective husbands, we're going to have to give each other a bit of "scent" to work with._ She closed her eyes for just a moment, bringing forth the memory she'd chosen to use. _It doesn't need to be anything intimate, per se, but it should give me a better understanding of his personality than I'd normally have. So that I won't be so likely to let what I only think I know about him get in the way._

Jim frowned, his expression growing uncertain. _That's...I'm not sure what you're wanting here..._

She squeezed his hands reassuringly. _Like I said, it doesn't necessarily have to be something that took place in the privacy of your quarters. For instance, for Spock, all I'm giving you is a memory of when Spock and I went shopping on Betazed, when he bought that puzzle that he gave Chekhov at his birthday party._ Jim shook his head, obviously still not understanding, and she hurried to explain further. _I'm choosing it because I want you to see how persistent Spock can be when he's found something he thinks someone would love, how even though he acted like he didn't enjoy the party, he worked damn hard to make Chekhov happy._ She grimaced, not satisfied with how she was explaining herself. _How he wanted to make Chekhov happy, wanted it very badly. Even though it's not something he would admit to or something anyone would ever expect of him._

Jim pursed his lips thoughtfully, some of the uncertainty clearing from his eyes. _All right,_ he said. _I think I've got it. What do you want me to do now?_

She gave him a gentle smile. _You've got that memory securely locked into a little room all by itself?_ He nodded and she smiled at him even more. _Then just open it up to me and let me come in holding my own set of pictures. And together, we'll turn these two parts of ourselves into one big space that we can both work from._

He closed his eyes, his fingers tightening around hers, and after a heartbeat or two, she could sense a part of him slowly "opening."

She allowed herself to take another deep breath to center herself.

Then she closed her own eyes, and let herself "walk" on in.

s Nyota "moved" forward, she became aware of her primary consciousness shifting, traveling from the mental body she'd created for herself in Spock's mindscape to a deeper area within her own psyche, the part of her being that she would use to interact with Jim. The process jarred her, unnerved her, as she felt herself being distanced further from her actual physical body, being pulled even more out of the physical realm. 

She forced herself to shake it off and focus. 

Then she opened her “eyes” and took a look around.

She stood at the edge of a vast African plain, at the outermost limit of what she realized was her own psychic space. Before her arose a vast rocky wall, jagged and scarred, but still bearing life, as a variety of flowering vines clung stubbornly to its sides, and small rivulets of water peeked out of its cracks and seams. The vines and the little streams went on to partially hide a wide climbing path, one that led up and up, eventually ending at a point too high on the wall for Nyota to even begin to see. 

The path was not what ultimately captured Nyota’s attention though. Instead, it was the door. The very ordinary looking wooden door. The one that stood right in the middle of the wall, as if it were just waiting for her to come up and knock loudly upon its sturdy center.

She walked over and touched her fingertips to the wood, her “skin” barely making contact with its “surface.”

The shock of energy she felt almost caused her to back away. 

It wasn’t painful, but it was unexpected. A type of psychic “spark” she had never experienced before, one that rushed along the edges of her being as if it were seeking somewhere to go, a path to follow. One that made her suddenly very aware of the fact that her consciousness was not safely grounded in her body, of the fact that her first time initiating a psychic contact was going to be done without that all-important safety net being available to protect her.

Should she and Jim really be doing this?

Perhaps this wasn’t something she could actually handle…

No, they had to do this. There was no other choice.

If they were going to get all four of them out of Spock’s mind, _this_ was exactly what they needed to do. 

She took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

Then she walked through it, with every bit of her attention focused on handling whatever happened next.

Unfortunately, she hadn’t been anticipating the sudden “pull.” Much like the spark, it wasn’t something she had expected. 

It was a force that tugged at her, tugged at her very being, tugged and tugged, until it carried her away.

Carried her until she reached an actual Starfleet-issued containment wall. 

One where Jim stood holding onto yet another ordinary-looking door, trying to open it while at the same time fighting the same force Nyota was currently experiencing.

She flattened herself against the wall and tried to hold herself in place. She pressed her hands against the hard material and attempted to achieve some type of traction.

Beyond her, Jim lifted his head from where he was struggling with the featureless wood and finally saw her. _What’s happening?_ he asked. _Everything was fine until just a second ago. Then things decided to go crazy…_

She shook her head even as she kept trying to hold on. Her hands slipped and she found herself being drawn closer to Jim and the door. _I don’t know,_ she said. _I’ve never experienced anything like this before. I don’t understand why it’s happening._

Jim pushed at the door again, the effort costing him some of his own grip on the wall, as he slid closer to Nyota. _Did I mess something up? All I did was create an empty room with two doors at either end. Was I supposed to do something more?_

Nyota grimaced as she slipped some more herself, her fingertips now almost touching the edge of one of Jim’s hands. _No. That should have been it. We should have been able to use this as a safe place to work, with our main consciousnesses here, but our memories and thoughts locked away. It’s the same way Spock and I interact. A piece of us goes out to meet the other, while the bulk of ourselves stay locked behind, inside our bodies._

Jim frowned as he gripped the “doorframe,” in an attempt to keep the slight distance between the two of them from decreasing. _Spock didn’t bring us in here though. That spiral-thingie did._ He cursed as the “pull” nearly caused his fingers to let go. _Did it change the rules somehow? Bring in parts of us that wouldn’t normally be here?_

Nyota huffed out a deep breath as she pressed her back more firmly against the wall. _We’re cut off from whatever consciousness is left in our bodies—that’s true. Which means we aren’t grounded. But I was hoping that wouldn’t cause us any problems._ “Hoping” being the optimal word there, she reminded herself, just before she shook the thought away. _We were fine out in Spock’s mindscape. The only difference now is that we’ve stopped pretending to be physical beings; we’ve started trying to actually interact mentally…_ She bit her lip, then cursed twice in succession. Once as her body slid again; twice as a nagging thought began to enter her consciousness. 

Beside her, Jim had also fallen, drifting so close that their bodies were almost touching along nearly half a dozen different points. _What?_ he asked, his eyes narrowing, his mouth a mere couple of inches away from Nyota’s. _You’ve got that look on your face again. You know what we did wrong, don’t you?_

Nyota sighed, hating the fact that with every muscle in her body doing its best to tighten itself down into one place, it was the closest she could get to screaming in frustration, frustration at how badly she’d miscalculated and what she feared it was about to mean for everyone involved. _I’m not…precisely sure,_ she admitted. _But it just occurred to me that back when we were ‘pretending’ to be physical beings…_ She allowed herself a moment to sneer at her own phrasing. _What we were actually doing was ‘thinking.’ And in here, inside a world that exists within another person’s mind…_ A fresh burst of the “pull” caused her to have to lock her knees, to keep herself from falling right into Jim. _Inside a person’s mind, thought is all. It’s everything. It was keeping us from merging together out there. Once we stopped thinking of ourselves a certain way though, once we started taking steps towards lowering our boundaries…_

Jim frowned as he filled in the blanks. _We’ve started a mental cascade effect,_ he said, the expression on his face as grim as she had ever seen it. _Thoughts merging with every other available thought, seeing them as just other parts of one big mind. Regardless of whose psyche they originated in._

She nodded. _So. It appears that my original plan wasn’t a very good one. What we need to do instead is try to get you back inside that door without the two of us touching. Once we have some sort of barrier between us again, we should stop having problems and we should be able to start working together to come up with another plan._

She began to reach behind her to try to find enough traction to pull herself backwards, to give Jim enough room to maneuver to get himself back to the door.

A quick motion of Jim’s hand stopped her. _Wait a minute,_ he said. _What other plan are we going to come up with? If we go back to our individual forms, we still won’t have enough power to reach Spock. Which means he’ll be stuck fighting the spiral all alone until it eventually kills him. Which will then kill the rest of us since we’ll all still be in here._

Nyota shook her head carefully, afraid the motion might throw her off-balance. _What are you proposing then?_ she asked. _We’re not going to be able to work together and still keep ourselves separate. That means that for the entire time we’re in here, we’re going to see far more of each other’s memories than we intended._ She began to lift a hand off of the wall, unthinkingly wanting to gesture to underscore the point. _Far more of each other’s innermost beings, each other’s souls._ At the last possible moment, she stopped herself, flinching a bit when she did. _And that’s not even considering what the consequences might be after we’re out of here. We might not be able to become totally disconnected ever again._

_I’ll take that chance._ He held out the hand he’d moved before, nearly bridging the short space Nyota had created between their two bodies. _I’ll take that chance,_ he said again. _Okay, yes, it might end up being very uncomfortable for the two of us, and it might be something our husbands won’t understand._ He glanced down at his feet briefly, only to look back up at her with his blue eyes full of resolve. _But I’d rather Bones be alive and upset with me than dead and anything else. I can handle the first state, no matter how bad it gets. I can’t handle the second. Even if I were to somehow survive this, if he didn’t…_ He shook his head. _Then you might as well just end me now. Because I won’t be good for anything else for the rest of the time that I’m alive._

His hand was still out there, waiting, as he began to speak again. _I know that you and I got off to a bad start, but I like to think that we’ve overcome that enough to get to know each other pretty well. I also like to think that you and I are the same in a lot of ways. Particularly in how we’re both stubborn fighters who love challenges and hate to be beaten by anyone or anything in the worst way possible._ He smirked at her, and she found that she had to return it a little. _We also don’t like to give up what’s ours. And I’m not about to lose my husband or any one of my very good friends, not when there’s something I know I can do about it._ He lifted the hand, tilting it so the palm splayed upwards. _So, what do you say? Want to jump off a cliff with me? I promise to do my best to keep us both from hitting the ground._

She pondered the hand and the question put before her. Bonded with Jim Kirk…granted, he was no longer the irritant she once considered him to be. Granted, she had come to appreciate him as both a captain and a friend.

But to do this with anyone other than Spock…

Spock…what would he say?

Would he understand the logic of what she was considering?

Or would he only want to understand, and still be hurt by it nonetheless?

How deeply would that hurt her, to be in his mind and feel the pain that she had placed there?

Of course, if she didn’t do it, there was the large chance that he wouldn’t be here to think anything about it at all.

And that was what it all came down to, wasn’t it?

Was she willing to take that particular chance?

When it came to saving Spock, what was she willing to do?

She reached out and stopped just short of taking Jim’s hand. _I’m in,_ she said, fingertips nearly brushing Jim’s skin. _This is completely and utterly insane…but I’m in._ She allowed herself to take one long deep breath and slowly let it out, extending her fingers to the point where they nearly made contact…

She stopped just at the absolute last point of no return. _You do realize this is going to be extremely unpleasant at first. No matter how much we might like or respect each other, we’re going to be finding out things that will make us both very uncomfortable._

He frowned, and the slightest bit of doubt crept back into his eyes. _Yeah,_ he said. _I know._ He pulled his hand back a few millimeters. _I still think this is the only thing we can do, but you should know…I’ve got some pretty bad memories hiding in there._

She nodded. _I’d sort of already guessed that much._ At his raised eyebrow, she added, _No one’s as fearless as you are unless they’ve already been pushed to the breaking point more than once. Most people don’t want to know what their limits are. You scream towards them at a speed that suggests you have what that one commercial shuttle service calls ‘frequent flier miles.’_

She grinned at him and moved her hand a bit closer.

He grinned back, and together, they completed the grasp.

For a brief second, absolutely nothing happened.

A second later, everything in Nyota’s personal universe shifted, and at the speed of light, her surroundings began to change.

It overwhelmed her at first, as some of her memories rushed past her, speeding in their haste to cross over, and changing the shape and feel of the room as they did. She watched her mother teaching her how to sing their special set of vocal exercises, her father struggling to find something to say the first time a boy broke up with her, the entire family mourning when the news came about the loss of Nyota’s favorite uncle. All followed by many others that came out so quickly they were more sense than scene.

The images changed as the rush shifted directions, morphing into pictures Nyota had never seen before. She felt relief at first as the initial memories featuring a blond boy interacting with adults showed the grown-ups to be merely neglectful and dismissive, and not the intentional cruelty she’d been so fiercely dreading.

Her relief fled though when she saw what came next. Scenes of people dying; first slowly from obvious starvation, then quickly from brutal acts of violence. The feeling she got from most of them was that they were strangers, but there were also an adult couple and a trio of children that sang to her of “blood.”

 _My aunt, my uncle, and my cousins,_ Jim explained. _They were actually good people who had the bad luck to be living on a truly fucked-up colony world. When the famine struck…when the riots started…they tried their best to save all of us kids, but…_ Jim shook his head. _I got lucky. I’d scored high enough on a placement test that the colonial governor had me brought in with a bunch of other kids he’d decided were ‘worthy of salvation.’_ He looked down, and Nyota didn’t have to see his face to know that his expression was bleak. She could feel his disgust easily, just from where she stood. _Of course, by the time Starfleet got there,_ he said, lifting his head and staring at the still-changing images, _no one could really be called ‘lucky.’ A lot of the people Kodos had decided to save were already dead as well._

Nyota nodded, unable to think of anything to say, and uncertain if it was even necessary, since Jim could surely feel her emotions as easily as she was feeling his. _Speaking of Starfleet…_ she said, happy to see the pictures changing, shifting to places they were both familiar with. _Looks like we’ve fast-forwarded to San Francisco._

 _Yeah._ Jim stepped forward, a slow grin spreading across his face as they watched a mostly red-uniformed group get off of a shuttle from Iowa, its two exceptions sticking out like a couple of ragged hitchhikers. _Man, Bones and I both looked like so much hammered crap that day. I had to laugh at the poor people in-processing us. Every one of their expressions just screamed, ‘Who let these guys in? Are we really that hard up now?’_

He threw Nyota a smirk, and she returned it, letting it grow into a smile as the view suddenly widened. There was Spock, she saw, waiting unobtrusively for her over by a back wall, his slight alteration of expression a sign she could immediately recognize as meaning that he was pleased to see her…

One flare of emotion later, and she was forced to change that thought. 

It was a sign both she _and_ Jim could now recognize as meaning that Spock was pleased to see her.

Which really was only fair, she supposed, since the rush of desperate warmth and affection she felt when she looked at a soon-to-be chief medical officer certainly wasn’t her own.

And given their situation, she could guess that she was probably giving off some desperate emotions as well.

Guess became confirmation when Jim turned to her with an abruptly serious expression on his face. _Nyota,_ he asked, _didn’t you say something before about being able to find them if we just gave each other a ‘scent’ to work from?_

She nodded. _Yes. And this certainly qualifies. Although I think I should warn you that the more we think about them, the more we focus on them to seek them out, the more we’re going to bring memories of them both to the surface._ She rubbed her palms against the side of her uniform as she stared back up at the unfolding scene. _Before this is over, we could end up giving each other quite a bit of a show._

 _That’s okay,_ he said, in a light tone of voice that did nothing to hide the anxious emotions she could sense that he had rolling around inside. _I think we already covered these types of possibilities when we discussed the price of admission._

 _So we did._ She pressed her fingers to her lips and took a deep breath, not sure whose case of nerves she was trying to settle. She looked over towards Jim. _Ready to get this started then?_

He nodded. _Bring on the home movies._

She gave him a half-grin and closed her eyes, wondering if doing so would change anything.

Apparently, it didn’t. The “movies,” as Jim had called them, still played out in the forefront of her mind.

With a soft sigh, she focused on Spock, starting with the shopping memory she’d already mentioned to Jim.

He “answered” with a memory of Bones asking Jim to rearrange the schedule for a recent series of mission stopovers, all because Starfleet HQ had screwed up one of his nurses’ orders for a certification course she’d really wanted to take, so the only way she was going to be able to take the course was for the Enterprise to drop her off at DS2 themselves.

She countered with Spock going with her to see a performance artist she knew he viewed as being incredibly inane and illogical.

He came back with Bones allowing himself to be dragged to an old-fashioned carnival, a place full of dangerously constructed rides and unhealthy food choices.

She smirked at the image, just before she answered with that most horrible of words: “shopping.”

She felt him smirk in return, and then throw it right back at her.

Somehow, she wasn’t surprised to learn that Jim Kirk could match her purchase-for-boyfriend-numbing-purchase any day of the week. She was beginning to accept that they were both people who were more than willing to accept any challenge just for the challenge’s sake; the looking good afterwards part was all just sheer bonus.

She took that knowledge forward with her as she sought out the next mundane memory she could use.

She could feel that he was doing the same as he continued to respond in a similar manner.

And so they went forward. Both of them trying to find the memories they could share without upping the ante too much, without delving into areas that were more intimate than they necessarily wanted to be.

Unfortunately, while it was turning out to be truly entertaining, learning all of these safe little tidbits about each other’s relationships, it didn’t appear to be accomplishing what they wanted. Namely, building up enough of a sense of their husbands’ personalities in each other that they were able to detect them and find wherever they might be out there in Spock’s mindscape.

They were going to need to “take it to the next level,” as Jim might say.

They were going to have to dive in and get more personal.

So, when it came back to Nyota’s turn, she took a deep breath and gave both Jim and herself a chance to feel her building resolve, her determination to do what she needed to do next.

Then she reached into her mind and pulled forward one of her most treasured memories.

She and Spock stood in a courtyard at the Academy, ostensibly so Nyota could show him a fountain that had been constructed sometime around the founding of the Federation. She had been pursuing him for months, finding him intriguing beyond measure, and now they were alone, their hands hanging close to each other, fingers just a space apart.

He reached out and brushed her hand with his fingertips, his face turned towards her so that she could see his eyes and know it was no accident.

She was still trying not to melt from it when he reached out and did it again.

And again and again and again.

Even now, years later, the memory of those touches made her gasp. Made her want to melt with the realization of the importance of what he had done to her. 

But more importantly, at the edges of her consciousness, it made her think that she could feel his energy. An energy that tasted of Spock and not just the recent memory, but an actual sense of his present self somehow being there and taking notice.

Thought she could feel it, and then it was gone.

She turned to Jim, wondering if he had sensed it too.

Turned to him, and then had to take a step back as he surprised her.

Surprised her by suddenly sending up a new memory, one that broke all of their tacitly-agreed-upon rules.

This new memory, it wasn’t like their previous back and forth; it wasn’t one of Bones. Instead, Jim was in an icy cave, talking to an older Vulcan, the one she recognized as the alternate version of her own Spock. This older man was touching Jim’s face, telling Jim about how he knew him.

Telling him and filling his mind with the pictures and emotions necessary to back it all up. Pictures and emotions that nearly leveled Jim, nearly brought him to his knees on that very spot.

Pictures and emotions that nearly did the same to Nyota as they showed her that in a different universe, and for a different Spock, she had not been a part of his lifelong equation. That she and Spock and Kirk and Bones had been people she barely recognized, people who didn’t share the passion they all did, but seemed far more content with various levels of abiding friendship. 

They weren't people who stand in courtyards and share touches with each other. 

More importantly, they weren't people who stand in the way of what this other Spock claimed was one of the most important relationships his reality had ever seen.

No, in a different universe, she hadn’t played a part. She hadn’t played a part at all.

She was destined to just be a witness apparently. Nothing more to either of them than just a very good friend.

Those thoughts, the sheer power of conviction in the elder Spock's memories, swirled in her head, causing her to have to lean back against a near wall. Leaning and wondering if these were the memories needed to bring back the Spock presence. Wondering if they held the power her own memories had lacked.

When Spock's presence didn’t return, she wasn’t certain if she was more disappointed or relieved.

No, she wasn’t certain, wasn't certain at all.

She was still pondering that when Jim threw her another curve ball.

A fresh memory. Only this time, one that had gone back to playing by the rules.

This time, Jim wasn’t in a cave. Instead, he was in a messy dorm room, one that stank of alcohol and reeked of pure misery. He sat on the floor next to Bones, both of them dressed in casual clothing, with Bones clutching a picture of a little girl.

A dead little girl, Nyota sensed. One that should have been five years old on that very day.

She watched as Jim crept over in front of Bones, as he realized that words weren’t going to work here, as he tried to solve the problem the only way he knew how.

He kissed Bones firmly on the mouth, and was only slightly surprised when Bones slid a hand into his hair and definitively kissed him back.

Just before pushing him away, refusing to take what he thought Jim only offered casually.

And up until that moment, it had been.

But as he sat there on the floor, Jim realized that was no longer the case, had never really been the case.

He just hadn’t seen it before.

He had never seen it before.

Nyota gasped as she pulled back from that thought, pulled back from having so many emotions thrown at her in such short order, pulled back as she attempted to process what she thought Jim's thoughts and feelings were trying to tell her.

 _Things are different here._ And here, he wanted to help her find her Spock, but he also wanted to find his Bones.

And they still had no idea where he was. There was no “phantom trace” as there might have been with Spock. So far, there had been nothing at all.

They were going to have to try again. Again and again and again.

And so they did.

Over the course of a length of time that Nyota had no idea how to measure, they opened up to each other and offered up any memory they thought might help. Nyota shared how she had enjoyed the process of working past Spock’s inherent restraint, the step by step pursuit involved in finding the passion she knew lurked underneath. She shared how her fascination had turned into respect, her admiration into genuine liking, her lust into love.

And in return, she learned how Jim and Bones had gone about things in a nearly opposite fashion. When they became lovers, there was no long drawn-out courtship. Instead, they’d taken a chance that the qualities they’d come to value in their friendship—the mutual need to defend and support each other, the ability to understand and forgive potential flaws such as impulsive natures and gruff edges, the hard-won decisions to trust—would survive the transition into something more. Taken a chance and, at least in Jim’s case, kept up a steady mantra of “Don’t fuck this up. Don’t fuck this up. Don’t fuck this up.” A mantra he still heard on some level even now.

It was amazing to her, the differences between their two relationships. She couldn’t imagine how any of them could have made something work with anyone else.

And yet, there was still that other universe.

What did that say about them?

Did it have any bearing at all?

She was still asking herself that question when she realized that something in the “room” had changed, that the atmosphere had become altered somehow.

An alteration that made her wonder…

She was asking the question before she’d even really stopped to think about it. _Spock?_ she asked. _Are you here? Can you hear me?_ She turned towards Jim, not needing to see him to know that his expression was hopeful. _Can you hear us? Spock, can you answer me?_

A small sound filtered into the room. One she couldn’t understand at first, but gradually began to take form. _Nyota,_ she thought she heard it say. _Nyota._

Then a second later, it was gone.

 _Spock!_ Nyota stared up at the “ceiling” of the mental room she and Jim had formed. _Spock, please. We need to talk to you..._

An angry gust of air caught her off-guard, ruffling her clothing and her hair. _You can not be here,_ it said in a voice that sounded like a combination of Spock’s gentle tenor and some other more elemental rumbling. _The situation is untenable. Any moment now, the entire mindscape will collapse, destroying all those who dwell within it. You must leave now._

She shook her head. _We can’t…_ she began.

The sweeping wind cut her off, circling her abruptly. _You must leave!_ it said. _You must leave. And you must leave now!_

Nyota scowled. _Oh, we should, should we?_ She looked over to Jim, just in time to catch his matching frown, his matching feelings of irritation. _No, I don’t think so. We’ve worked hard to get to this point, pushed our way through some unexpected obstacles, and we are not about to turn back now. We want our husbands—we want you, Spock! And you’re not going to make us leave. Not after everything we’ve done to attract your consciousness here._

The air swirled between the two of them. _What have you...What have you done…?_ The sound of moving air stopped, and Nyota found herself holding her breath in anticipation. _Oh. You should not have…I would never have asked this of either of you…_

Nyota swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry, her tongue uncertain of what it should say. _We know that, Spock,_ she said, hoping against hope that despite the fact that he’d cut off her connection to his thoughts, he’d still instinctively understand everything she was trying to tell him. _We know you wouldn’t ask it. But that’s beside the point. Some things, you shouldn’t have to ask. Some things, the people who love you should just do._

She waited as the air moved slightly, shifting slowly before Spock spoke again. _I see,_ he said, in a voice so neutrally controlled, it nearly led Nyota to stop and ask just what it was he thought he saw. _I can also see that you wish to aid me in both defeating the spiral and facilitating everyone’s return to their own physical bodies._ He paused, and Nyota shivered, her “blood” abruptly growing cold. _You should know that there is a way, but that it will not be comfortable for any one of us. Especially since all four of us will have to be involved, and our fourth is currently beyond any means of asking his permission._

These last words brought Jim immediately to Nyota’s side, breaking through the respectful distance he’d been giving her and Spock’s conversation. _What do you mean we can’t ask him?_ he asked, a note of urgency in his question. _What’s happened to him? Did the spiral-thingy hurt him when it sucked him in here?_

The air swirled, and Nyota felt as though she could breathe in Spock’s desire to sigh. _Dr. McCoy is mostly unharmed,_ he said, _but the sudden transference of his consciousness from his mind to my own did catch him off-guard enough to stun him into a state of incoherency._ The air stilled, and Nyota found herself leaning forward, as if changing her position would help her listen. _My current awareness of him is that he is trying to refocus himself, but I fear that he is still too scattered for me to be able to make him understand what will happen when I reach out and bring his consciousness in here with the rest of us._

Nyota shared an uncertain look with Jim. _And what will happen when you bring his consciousness in here?_ she asked, a large part of her suspecting that she already knew the answer.

The stillness in the air seemed to deepen all around them. _All four of us will merge our consciousnesses, much as the two of you already have._ Beside her, she heard Jim begin to protest, but Spock’s explanation ran right over any words the captain might say. _It is the only possible plan, unfortunately. The three of us could engage the spiral without bringing the doctor in here, but that would leave him isolated and unprotected. So much so, that the probability of his coming to greater harm in such a situation is unacceptably high, to the point that it is only the slimmest of margins that keeps it from being a certainty rather than a probability._

He paused for a moment, and Nyota got the sense that if he’d been in a corporeal form, he’d be raising an eyebrow at Jim, asking him if he still wanted to protest. When Jim chose not to, merely looked away from the space Spock’s presence occupied, Nyota held her breath and waited for Spock to speak again. _I could wish there were another way,_ he said, sounding more like himself to her ears than he had before, _but I can honestly see no other approach we can take if we intend for all four of us to emerge largely undamaged. As I said, this appears to be our only possible plan._

Nyota nodded and bit her lip. She’d ask Spock if he was sure, but she didn’t see the point when she already knew the answer.

Instead, she considered asking other questions. Questions like, “And how do you feel about all of this, Spock? About the prospect of melding the four of us together? How badly do you really wish there were another way?” 

How badly did he wish that she and Jim had found another way?

And what did he mean when he said, “I see”?

Well, if they did what he was proposing, she supposed she’d soon have her answers. 

And with those thoughts still in her mind, she turned to Jim. 

A quiet, forlorn Jim, whose face told her nothing, but whose heart told her everything.

 _Well?_ she asked, giving him the chance to say the answer she’d already sensed that he’d chosen. _Are you ready to see this particular adventure finally come to a close?_

He flashed her a brief grin. _More than ready,_ he said, holding out his hand. _What’s the saying? ‘Once more into the breach?’ I’m afraid my Shakespeare’s a little rusty._

She reached out and clasped his palm firmly. _It sounds just fine to me,_ she said, smiling at him softly. 

He nodded at her slowly, returning the smile, before lifting his head and staring at the spot Spock’s voice had been coming from. _Spock_ , he asked, _do you need us to do anything special to help you get this party started?_

The air around them began to stir again. _I think not, Captain,_ Spock said, his voice growing vaguely distant. _Just be prepared for two more occupants. We shall be returning in fairly short order._

Jim nodded, more decisively than he had at Nyota. _We’ll be waiting,_ he said, as the sense of “Spock” disappeared from Nyota’s mind. _We’ll be waiting,_ he repeated, gripping Nyota’s hand reassuringly.

Of course, it wasn’t so reassuring when Nyota could sense precisely how anxious his tumbling insides were at the moment. She had to give him credit. More than a year’s worth of handling strenuous situations with this man, and she’d never before realized just how good of an actor Jim could be.

She grabbed his free hand and squeezed it gently. _It will be all right,_ she said. _He’ll understand. I know he will._

Jim let out a deep breath and briefly closed his eyes. _Yeah, you’re probably right,_ he said. _And even if he doesn’t, it’s like I said…it doesn’t matter so long as he’s alive, right?_

Nyota shook her head. _Jim…_

She broke off as a sense of presence made itself known. As the feeling of “Spock” re-emerged through the wall.

This time weighted down with the sense of something extra.

Jim released her hands and stepped back from her. _Looks like this is it,_ he said, staring at the rapidly shifting air that was settling down and taking on a more solid shape in front of them. _Showtime._

She swallowed and rubbed her hands against the “cloth” of her uniform. _Yes,_ she agreed. _Showtime._

It seemed as good a name as any for it, she thought. This moment where she and Jim finally came to grips with everything they’d needed to do to save their husbands.

She only hoped the final curtain didn’t end up falling on top of the two of them.

She wasn’t certain that it was an ending either one of them could bear.


End file.
